


"Your Love's Got Me Lookin' So Crazy Right Now"

by FirstSilverStar (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a stripper, Enjoy the story, F/F, M/M, Much smut. Much wow, This probably won't get finished, Thomas is a good boi, and Im okay with this, fluff for sure, okay im done with weird tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/FirstSilverStar
Summary: Alexander, age 21, a stripper, meets a man one night during a routine. He invites him to the backroom, and love begins to bloom.





	"Your Love's Got Me Lookin' So Crazy Right Now"

**Author's Note:**

> This- Probably won't get finished. I have the attention span of a fish.

The bass of the loud music thrummed through his body like a second heartbeat. His slim, bony, soft body is poised, with a hip cocked and legs straight. His hair was tousled, pulled over to one side with skillful fingers, and the only clothing adorning his body was silk and lace. His lips, painted a deep crimson, are pulled upwards slightly. The melody changed as the previous performance passed them, and he knew it was his cue to leave backstage.

His voice was low and hypnotic, spreading through the air with help from the microphone fixed artfully around his left ear and hidden by his chestnut strands. The hardwood flooring of the stage chilled his feet, but he was used to it by now, opting to grab onto the metal pole that he had danced on so many times. Alexander throws a grin out to the crowd between verses, all of them men, due to this being a gay strip club. He picks up the next chord, starting his routine.

It was exhilarating, the movements, the adrenaline - it could almost drown out the whistles and stench of alcohol, bile, and sex. His eyes, the colour of dark chocolate, are caught on a man in the front of the crowd, with a rigid posture, yet he was hot. Ridiculously so. He hums softly to himself, not close to loud enough for the microphone to pick up the sound. With a few more spins, he's dipping backwards, his spine arching to accommodate the movement, and their noses are left with hardly a centimetre gap between them. He grins, a seductive thing, but he's standing back up before the man can process what just happened.

After a few verses of the song he's singing in a clear voice, he's lowering himself onto the man's lap, onto his rigid legs and splaying a long-fingered hand across his chest. He grinds his hips down slowly, just light enough to be considered teasing, and a few break measures allows him to lean forward and take the man's earlobe in between his teeth. The Caribbean man whispers after a few seconds, letting go, "My shift ends at eleven." At that, he's rising back onto the stage gracefully, his hips swaying, and picking back up the chorus.

He's disappearing off stage after the song ends, blowing a kiss to the man and his two friends before being swallowed by the black velvet curtains. The backstage area is chaos, as it always is. Drugs, the sound and smell of sex, the strippers running around to get ready for their next dance. He cuts through it, joining those on the floor and wandering around. He gives a few lap dances as he always does, every movement practiced and self-designed to touch the other as little as possible. He may be a stripper, but he still has _some_ dignity.

Alexander is soon leaving to get dressed for his next act. White lingerie, light makeup, softly curled hair. He looks right on that line of innocence and positively sinful, and he loves it.

He steps out on stage once more at his cue, his backup following close behind. He allows himself to scan the audience, a dull pang of disappointment running through him at the absence of the man who had caught his eye earlier, but he brushes it off, determined to not allow it to fuck him up.

The announcer comes on at his last spin, turning him back towards the curtains and allowing him to walk gracefully away.

_"And that, gentleman, was the Tomcat's last performance of the night."_ He goes on to tell everyone that they'll be taking a break to clean the stage as well as let new participants in for half an hour.

Alexander gets dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, the clothing leaving little to the imagination, but he saunters out towards the bar, where he finds the man sitting. With a wicked grin, he gently taps on the taller's shoulder, "Hello, is this seat taken?" his voice is what one would describe as a purr, low and pleased.

He looks up at the stripper with gorgeous brown eyes and, in a southern voice, drawls, "It's all yours."

This is gonna be fun, he decides, sitting down in the seat next to the taller.


End file.
